Not As Easy As It Looks
by dS-Tiff
Summary: Someone is sending Fraser mysterious letters, then RayK makes a big decision, but is he making a big mistake?  This was written in response to a challenge.


_**This was written in reponse to a challenge set by my good friend vic32 on another site. The challenge was to include the following:**_

**_1. Fraser receives mystery letters_**

**_2. RayK decides he wants a puppy_**

**_3. Francesca is not happy with something (i.e. jealous)_**

**_4. Add some comic happenings in the squad room._**

**_Please feel free to add a review, good or bad! Thank you kindly!  
><em>**

NOT AS EASY AS IT LOOKS

"This just arrived for you Sir," Constable Turnbull handed the envelope to Constable Benton Fraser who was sat at his desk at the Canadian Consulate.

Fraser looked up from the report he was writing, sighed and took the envelope from Turnbull. "Thank you kindly," he said and picked up a knife to cut open the envelope. He looked back at Turnbull who was still standing in front of his desk. "I said thank you kindly," he said, frowning slightly.

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir," Turnbull looked a little embarrassed and turned to leave, but before he got as far as the door he turned back to Fraser. "Is it another one?" he asked.

"Yes Turnbull," replied Fraser, a little curtly. He had been receiving strange letters recently, this new one today made a total of six in as many days, but they made absolutely no sense to him. They were, however, beginning to cause him some concern. He'd shown them to his friend and unofficial partner at the Chicago Police Department, Ray Vecchio (at least that was the name he was currently using while undercover) but between them they'd not been able to work out what they meant. Constable Turnbull had been intrigued by the mystery letters, but Fraser didn't feel that it was anyone else's business at this juncture, so he'd declined to discuss them with his colleague.

Turnbull, however, wasn't going to let it drop this time. "Are they from an admirer Sir?" he asked.

"An admirer?" repeated Fraser, trying not to lose his patience with the younger man. "No Turnbull, at least I don't believe so."

"Ah," Turnbull replied, knowingly, tapping the side of his nose with one finger. "I understand Sir," he continued, "don't worry, I won't say anything to her."

Fraser was completely bemused. "Say anything to whom about what?" he asked.

"Don't worry Sir, you don't have to pretend with me, your secret is safe." With that, Turnbull left the room. Fraser shook his head. Sometimes, he had no idea what Turnbull was talking about. He took the letter out of its envelope and absent-mindedly licked his lower lip as he read it. It was in the same format as the others. It began with the word 'Help' and then there was a series of numbers. Fraser and Ray had tried everything they could think of to decode the numbers, but they weren't map co-ordinates, or telephone numbers, or any of the other ideas they'd come up with. They were at a loss, but Fraser was concerned that whoever it was who was asking for his help may be in serious trouble.

XxX

Later that day, Fraser was sitting at Ray's desk at the 27th Precinct. He had shown the latest letter to Ray, but it was the same as before and they just didn't have any fresh ideas. "They're all mailed from different locations, we've established that already," Fraser said, going over the things they'd already been able to determine, "but each one is written by the same person, a right handed male, using a ball point pen."

"That could be a million people Fraser," sighed Ray, "I write with my right hand and look," he pulled a pen from the pot on his desk, "I use a ball point pen."

"Ray, did you write these letters?" Fraser asked his friend, seriously.

"Er, no Fraser," replied Ray, shaking his head, unsure if Fraser was trying to make a joke or not. "Do ya really think someone's in trouble? Seems kinda stupid if ya need help to send such indesyphonable letters."

"You mean indecipherable Ray," corrected Fraser.

"Er, that's what I said," sneered Ray.

"No Ray," began Fraser, but he suddenly thought that annoying Ray by pointing out his error would probably only serve to put his partner in more of a bad mood than he already seemed to be in, "but that's not important at this juncture. What is important is that we trace the writer of these letters."

Suddenly, Francesca Vecchio appeared at Ray's desk and stood closer to Fraser than was necessary, as usual. "Frase," she began, "do you think I have a good figure?" Fraser felt his cheeks turn red and his throat was immediately dry. He tried to speak, but he just couldn't get any words out. "My figure Frase," prompted Francesca, "y'know, my body. What do you think about my body?"

"Um, um," Fraser really didn't know what to say, but he was aware by the tone of her voice that Francesca was actually quite bothered by something and wasn't just flirting with him this time. He tried very hard to reply with a cohesive sentence. "Why do you ask? Is there something wrong?"

Francesca sighed and slapped a magazine down on Ray's desk. "I just had lunch with Sergeant Reeves from downstairs. There's a survey in this magazine called 'Is Your Figure Good Enough To Get You A Man?' and I answered all the questions honestly, my vital statistics, that sort of thing and it told me I have good figure." Francesca looked even more annoyed.

Fraser was really confused now. "Well that's good, isn't it?"

"No Fraser!" replied Francesca, exasperated. She pointed at the page in the magazine. "Look, I answered 'Mostly C's' which means a 'Good Figure', but Sergeant Reeves answered 'Mostly D's' which means a 'Great Figure'. She's two years older than me, how can her body be better than mine?"

"I'm not sure that age necessarily has anything to do with it," replied Fraser. Francesca looked even more annoyed now.

Ray thought he'd better jump in, as Fraser was really not helping at all. "Frannie, y'got a great figure, OK?" he sighed. He hated being nice to Francesca.

Francesca smiled a little. "Thanks Ray," she said, but what she really wanted was for Fraser to tell her that.

"Francesca, if I might say so, these magazine surveys have no basis in scientific fact." Fraser said, running a finger around his collar, which felt like it was getting tighter by the minute. "I really don't believe they are meant to be taken seriously."

Ray shook his head. His buddy really had no idea how to pay a compliment to a woman, he thought. Francesca sighed, picked up her magazine and started back towards her desk. Then she suddenly remembered something and turned back towards Ray's desk holding out a piece of paper. "This just came through on the fax machine. It's addressed to you Frase."

Fraser took the piece of paper out of her hand. "Thank you kindly Francesca." Francesca turned to walk away again, but Fraser called out to her. "Francesca, " he said, avoiding eye contact, "if it helps, I personally find Sergeant Reeves' legs slightly too thin and her hips are disproportionate to her shoulders." Francesca smiled a huge, rather smug smile and walked back to her desk.

Ray couldn't quite believe that Fraser had just said that. He was slightly amazed, although quite pleased to discover that his partner had been checking out the ladies. _Greatness buddy_, he grinned to himself and looked across at Fraser, but Fraser's cheeks had returned to their normal colour and he was looking at the fax with some concern. "What is it Fraser?" Ray asked, suddenly serious.

"This fax is from the same person who has been sending the letters," said Fraser, "he sounds quite desperate now." He handed the fax to Ray.

Ray read it aloud. "Help. I don't think Evie has much time left. 177-34885 quickly. I can't help her now." Ray was quite shocked. "Evie? Who's Evie?"

"I have no idea Ray," sighed Fraser, "but this is the first time we've had any information beyond the numbers."

Ray slapped his hand on his desk in frustration. "He obviously thinks you know what these numbers mean," he said, "maybe it's somethin' Canadian."

Fraser thought for a minute. "You may be on to something there Ray," he said. He closed his eyes.

"Hey buddy," Ray prodded him in the arm, "this is no time for sleep."

"I'm not sleeping Ray," replied Fraser, without opening his eyes, "I'm trying to visualise the numbers in a different setting." He sat in silence for a moment, but then suddenly snapped his eyes open and looked at Ray. "We have to get back to the Consulate," he said, leaping out of his chair, grabbing his hat and heading out of the door. Ray raced after him.

XxX

Back at the Consulate, Fraser quickly tapped a few keys on his keyboard and logged into the computer on his desk. "Ah," he said suddenly.

"Ah, what Fraser?" asked Ray.

"Ray, take a look in one of those boxes over there," said Fraser, pointing to one of the huge piles of filing boxes that cluttered up his room.

"What am I lookin' for?" enquired Ray, as he lifted the lid off one of the boxes and pulled out a file. Ray was a little surprised that Fraser could immediately lay his hands on the box containing the information they needed because he had so many boxes in his office, it was a wonder he could find his desk sometimes. Although this was Fraser, Ray reminded himself, he could probably find a particular snowflake in a snowdrift. Inspector Thatcher seemed to use Fraser's office as a dumping ground for just about anything, despite knowing full well that he lived as well as worked there.

"Those are all the records of imports from Canada that have to be logged through the Consulate," explained Fraser. "Various restricted items need to be recorded, but look at the form Ray, look at the line marked 'Destination'."

Dief was beginning to show an interest in the contents of the boxes now. Ray glanced up at him. "No doughnuts in there Dief," he grinned. The wolf decided he would continue looking anyway. Fraser shook his head in mild annoyance. Ray scanned down the form and found where it said 'Destination'. "It's just a number," he said, still a little puzzled, but then he realised what Fraser was trying to point out to him. "Oh I see!" he exclaimed, "it's in that format, three digits, a hyphen, then five more digits."

"Exactly Ray," said Fraser, "the first three digits refer to the area of the city and the last five are specific to an address. They use this system to avoid unscrupulous persons finding out where the restricted items are going to end up, thus preventing the destinations becoming targets for robberies. It appears that whoever has been sending the letters is fully aware of the system and was using it to try to send me to various places. The numbers are cross referenced against the RCMP computer system so if I search for the number on the fax I received earlier, we should know where to go."

Ray shook his head in disbelief. It sounded like an unnecessarily complicated system to him, but then the Canadians seemed to like that sort of thing, if his experiences with Inspector Thatcher were anything to go by anyway. She usually had a mountain of paperwork for Fraser to do, even for the simplest of tasks.

"Here it is," said Fraser suddenly. Ray went to Fraser's desk and peered over his shoulder. "177-34885," continued Fraser. "According to the key, it's a storage warehouse for a prescription drugs company."

"It was," corrected Ray, looking at the address. "That warehouse has been empty for a few months."

"Either way," began Fraser, switching off his computer, "we should get over there straight away. Whoever Evie is, it sounds like she could be in serious trouble."

XxX

A few minutes later, Ray, Fraser and Dief were in the GTO heading towards the address of the warehouse. "How d'ya think whoever wrote the letters knew about the, er, the code thing?" Ray enquired.

Fraser frowned. "He could have been one of the delivery drivers," he suggested. "They are all vetted by the RCMP and each driver only knows a few of the codes," he explained.

Ray thought for a moment. "Ya do realise this could be a trap," he said, glancing across at his partner.

"Quite possibly Ray," acknowledged Fraser.

Soon they pulled up outside the warehouse. Ray managed to pick the lock and Fraser decided that as a life could be in danger, he would overlook the legality of his partner's actions on this occasion. They carefully opened the door and peered inside. The warehouse appeared to have been abandoned several months earlier, as Ray had suggested. There were some items left behind, some shelving units and piles of old packaging materials. They couldn't see anyone, but there were two offices at the back of the warehouse and Ray pointed towards them, indicating that they should go and take a look. Fraser nodded back and used hand signals to suggest to Ray that they should split up, circle around the edge of the warehouse and meet at the far end by the offices. Ray nodded, drew his gun and headed off, keeping in the shadows and walking very carefully. Fraser set off along the other wall, keeping Dief close to him.

Suddenly, Dief started barking loudly and ran off towards the other end of the warehouse. "Dief!" hissed Fraser, but the wolf didn't hear him and continued making a noise. Ray decided that there was no point creeping around any more and ran after Dief, with Fraser following reluctantly.

"Chicago PD!" yelled Ray, but they still couldn't see anyone.

"What is it Dief?" asked Fraser when he finally caught up with his wolf. Dief was running around slightly crazily and he was still barking. Fraser followed him around to the other side of a pile of empty boxes, but even he was surprised at what he found. "Ray," he called and his partner quickly appeared, but he too was shocked when he saw a large black dog, laying on it's side on a blanket and making a strange noise. Fraser was on his knees. He gently stroked the dog's back and spoke quietly, trying not to startle the animal. Diefenbaker was pacing about, but he had stopped barking now.

Ray crouched down on one knee. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

"He is a she Ray," explained Fraser. He noticed that the dog was wearing a collar and he felt around it until he found a name tag. He turned it over to expose the embossed letters. "Look Ray," he said. Ray squinted to read the name. "This is Evie," continued Fraser, smiling a little now, "and there's nothing wrong with her at all. However she is about to give birth."

"What?" exclaimed Ray, "right now?"

"Yes Ray," replied Fraser, "and please try to keep your voice down, it is better for her if she is kept calm."

"Sorry," whispered Ray. "Er, what do we do now? We gotta get her to a vet or somethin'."

"There's no time," explained Fraser, calmly. "I believe the first of her puppies will be making an appearance imminently."

Ray was getting a little bit panicky now. "Er, don't we need hot water and towels or somethin'?" he asked.

"Relax Ray," replied Fraser, "everything appears to be progressing normally. We just need to let nature take it's course, although I will need the blanket from the car and the first aid kit."

Ray fetched the items that Fraser asked for. Fraser tore up some old boxes and used them to make a warm, comfortable area for the puppies and then nature did, indeed, take its course. Ray and Dief had a look around the warehouse to see if anyone was still there, but they found nothing. When they came back, Fraser was dealing with the first of the new arrivals. "You missed it Ray," he said, a little disappointed for his friend.

Ray, however, was really not that disappointed. "Er, it's OK Fraser," he said, "I, er, I think there are some things I'd rather not see, y'know." Ray was trying to avoid thinking about it all too much. "We didn't find anyone," he told Fraser, stating the obvious.

"I assumed you wouldn't," concluded Fraser, "whoever Evie belongs to clearly doesn't want to be identified. For whatever reason, they appear unwilling, or unable to cope with the arrival of these pups." He was distracted then by a sudden noise from Evie and as the second of the puppies began to arrive, Ray thought that was a good moment to have another look round. Diefenbaker, on the other hand, chose to stay this time.

By the time the fifth and final puppy came into the world, Ray had paced round the warehouse so many times, Fraser thought his friend could probably now describe it from memory in some detail. "It's all over Ray," he called out.

Ray came wandering back. He couldn't help smiling at the sight of the newborn pups feeding for the first time, but then he noticed Evie and Dief. "Urghh!" he exclaimed, "what the hell are they eating?"

"Ray," replied Fraser, calmly, "Evie has apparently very kindly allowed Dief to share the, er..." he paused suddenly, noticing the colour had completely drained from Ray's face. He decided that it was best not to go into any more details regarding the nutritional value of the afterbirth at this juncture. "It's not important. What is important is that we leave them here in peace for a moment," said Fraser, finally. "If I could borrow your cellular telephone, I'll contact a friend of mine who runs an animal rescue centre. She'll be able to care for them all and find them new homes."

XxX

That evening, Ray and Fraser were sharing a pizza at Ray's apartment. "So Fraser," Ray began, with a mouthful of pizza, "d'ya think Evie's owner's gonna come forward and claim her back?"

Fraser shrugged. "I don't know Ray," he said. "He or she clearly cared enough about her to make sure she had help. She wasn't just abandoned like so many other animals. They obviously know how to contact me so I'm sure they will if they want to."

Ray nodded. "I was thinkin'," he said, "maybe I could take one of the puppies."

Fraser nearly choked on his pizza. "You Ray?" he said, totally surprised.

"Yeah," replied Ray, a little upset that Fraser should think it was such a strange idea. "Why not? I had a dog once before."

"Yes I know Ray," Fraser felt bad for not sounding more supportive just now, "but a puppy is very hard work. You'll need to consider a lot of things first."

"Like what?" asked Ray.

"Well," Fraser tried to imagine Ray with a new puppy, but he just couldn't, "well, there's house training it for one thing, that can take a while and you won't be able to leave it alone in your apartment all day. They take a lot of looking after, especially in the first few months."

"I look after Dief all the time," replied Ray.

Dief growled and barked. Fraser looked down at him. "Alright, alright," he said to the wolf, a little irritated, "I was just about to explain that." Ray looked puzzled. "Diefenbaker would like to point out that he doesn't really need looking after," said Fraser, "although I'm sure if he were left to his own devices here in Chicago, he'd manage to get himself into all manner of trouble." Dief growled again. Fraser ignored him. "A puppy requires a lot of attention Ray, not to mention food, regular exercise and several visits to the veterinary clinic to ensure he receives all of his immunisations."

"I can do all that," said Ray, now even more determined than ever to get a puppy, just to prove to Fraser and to himself that he could do it.

"I'm sure you can Ray," smiled Fraser, entirely unconvinced.

XxX

So, a few weeks later, Ray brought his new puppy home. Fraser and Dief followed behind with all the supplies he had just purchased from the pet shop. Ray was a little shocked at the amount of money he'd had to pay out for all the things. "I'm gonna call him Rocky," he announced.

"After the mountain range?" enquired Fraser.

"No buddy," Ray shook his head, "after the Stallone movie." Fraser was none the wiser.

XxX

After a few days, Ray began to think he'd made a mistake. Rocky had chewed his way through Ray's leather gun holster, relieved himself more than once on his sofa and kept him up for two nights in a row. Ray was quickly losing what little patience he had. He'd taken a few days off work, at Fraser's suggestion, to help his new pet settle in, but now he was desperate to get back to the twenty seventh. He realised that he couldn't leave Rocky in his apartment all day, so he decided to take him into the station.

Fraser arrived just before lunchtime and was met with a scene of total chaos. Rocky had apparently taken a liking to Jack Huey's shoes and was clinging onto his right foot, gnawing at the leather. Ray was trying to prise his puppy off, but was having very little luck. Detective Dewey was scrabbling around on the floor, trying to pick up the files that the little dog had scattered everywhere as he'd scrambled across all the desks. Dewey was scratching his head trying to work out which pieces of paper had come out of which files.

Francesca was busy cleaning up one of Rocky's little accidents, the third that morning apparently. This time he'd decided that right outside Lieutenant Welsh's office was a suitable place. Welsh had come out of his office and stepped right in it, much to his disgust and was sitting at Ray's desk, cleaning the bottom of his shoe with a paper towel. As soon as he saw Fraser arrive, the Lieutenant bellowed at the top of his voice. "Constable, will you pleased tell Vecchio that I am not running a zoo here!"

"Oh dear," was all that Fraser could manage to say. He wasn't sure who to help first, but he decided that removing Rocky from the carnage was probably the most important thing. He crouched down next to Ray and somehow managed to separate Rocky from Huey's shoe.

"I couldn't leave him at home," Ray said to his partner, "ya were right about that. He's destroyin' my apartment!"

Fraser nodded and carried Rocky back to his box under Ray's desk. He looked at Dief. "Keep an eye on him," he instructed and Dief duly settled himself down next to the box. "I did try to warn you," said Fraser quietly to his partner, scratching at his left eyebrow.

"Don't say I told ya so," Ray hissed back. Fraser went to help Dewey sort out his files. Ray looked under his desk at Rocky, who was trying his best to get past Dief, but without much success. "Ya looked so cute when ya were just born," he sneered at the pup.

XxX

A short while later, Lieutenant Welsh was very pleased to see that his Squad Room had returned to some normality. _Well, as normal is this place ever gets_, he concluded.

Fraser had Rocky in his arms and the pup was happily licking his face. Francesca watched from her desk, momentarily very jealous of the little animal. "I could take him back to the Consulate for the rest of the day," offered Fraser.

"Thanks buddy," sighed Ray, "but what about tomorrow? Much as I hate to say it, but I, er, I think ya were right. I guess I should just stick with a turtle. I'll have to give him back."

At this Francesca leapt out of her chair and came running over to them. "No!" she exclaimed, taking Rocky from Fraser and holding him up in the air for a second, before bringing him back down into her arms for a cuddle. "You can't do that, he's so adorable!" Rocky began licking Francesca's face now. "Who want's a kiss?" she asked him, putting on a silly voice. "Do you want a kiss from your Auntie Frannie? Yes you do, yes you do!"

At that precise moment, Fraser and Ray appeared to have exactly the same idea. They turned to look at one another and an enormous grin spread over Ray's face. Fraser nodded in acknowledgement. "Hey Frannie," said Ray, "so, er, how do ya think Ante would like to be a foster mom?"

Francesca was puzzled for a moment, but then she realised what Ray was saying. "Oh Ray, really?" she said in excitement. "Could I really have him? Could I?"

"Why not?" shrugged Ray, "at least I'd know he was goin' to a good home."

"Oh yes Ray, thank you!" She was so grateful that she leaned over and gave Ray an huge kiss on the cheek. Then she gave Fraser a kiss too, for no particular reason. "I'll have to check with Ma first," she continued, "but I'm sure she'll say yes, we had a puppy once years ago. Oh thank you Ray," and she took Rocky back over to her desk to call her mother. Fraser cracked his neck and Ray sneered at her and they simultaneously wiped the sides of their faces with their hands.

"Well Ray," said Fraser, listening to Francesca's excited telephone call, "it appears that this situation has resolved itself."

"Greatness," replied Ray, looking across at his partner and they both couldn't help laughing.

THE END.


End file.
